


40 French Kisses - Sirius/Severus

by shinchansgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Animagus, Detention, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt, Fictional Religion & Theology, Guilt, Hiding, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I really don't know what tags to use, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Marauders' Era, More tags to be added, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Sirius Black Being an Idiot, Snape is Mean, Timeline What Timeline, UST, unclear age
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 04:46:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 8,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3596877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinchansgirl/pseuds/shinchansgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles originally written for the LiveJournal community "40 French Kisses" in 2005. Minor edits as they are posted.</p>
<p>Drabbles center around a romantic relationship between Sirius and Severus beginning in Hogwarts and taking many rocky tumbles along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #01: One Night Stand

We were so young that first night. The only night really. It’s the one night I ever even remotely liked the slimy git while the two of us were in school. The one night we shared together and it remains burned in my mind – for good or bad I don’t really know.

I should be thanking James for that dare but I know I never will.

We had been given detention and were stuck cleaning cauldrons in the dingy dungeons while the professor did whatever it was he did in his private lab. James had dared me to kiss – to kiss _him_ , Snivellus. And, in that one instant when insults were darting through the air and we were close enough to feel the air rushing out of each other’s lungs as we hissed them out – I did.

I kissed him. He didn’t respond to it. Perhaps he was too shocked to participate; perhaps he was too scared to respond. Maybe he just didn’t like boys. I still didn’t know – I didn’t care back then – but I did it just the same.

I can still remember that one kiss.

Everything after that was done in a rush of teenage hormones. The way I tore his clothes, the way I pounded into him on the floor of the potions lab, was all a rush that gave me a high I didn’t want to come down from ever. In my wildest dreams I had never imagined my first time to be with a boy I hated on the slime-covered floor of a potions lab fearing the professor would return and catch us with our pants down, literally. But it was, and I enjoyed every moment of it. He enjoyed himself too in the end. Physically, at least. Maybe he hated himself afterwards – or maybe, like me, he didn’t question it. I never thought to ask.

I never questioned why he gave in to me that night – never questioned why he let me have him – never questioned my own desires for him. The next day neither of us mentioned it. Never after did we so much as hint towards it. We graduated without any word about it. I let James believe I had only gone so far as the dare – the single kiss.

But for that one night we had something more, and I never questioned it. Never. But I never forgot it either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> first edit 4/7/2006.  
> second edit 3/22/2015.


	2. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #02: Blurry

His hands are like those of an artist: mixing, changing, and creating something wondrous from simple ingredients. His skin is the pale tone of sweetened milk. He enjoys sunlight almost as much as he enjoys the spotlight: not at all.

His words are slick and biting. His tone is harsh and cruel. He has no love for those who would hurt him; to him that includes everyone. He knows very little kindness. Doesn’t understand it.

Sirius hates that. He hates that Severus looks for the bad in people – in friends, family, students – and exploits what he finds. Sirius hates that Severus works for a master who causes him pain unimaginable more often than Severus unwillingly admits.

Sirius hates that he caused that downfall.

Sirius brushes away strands of hair, always matted by the fumes of the potions Severus creates, and watches the other man sleep. The hospital wing bed seems too large for the body it holds, the sheets too white against dark hair and black clothes but not white enough when compared to his pale skin. His skin is soaked with sweat as after-tremors continue their course. He kisses a sweat-soaked brow.

Why do they fight like this? Why must they make such sacrifices? The cruelty of the Dark Lord on the one he loved – loved, but would not – could not – admit to loving – was tearing Sirius apart. He would not dare dream of telling anyone his feelings, and yet here he sat beside the harsh, demanding man anyways. All he can think is that it is his own fault. Sirius is to blame for this pain – because Sirius was the one to drive him to the Dark Lord’s side.

The form before him blurs as his eyes water but Sirius doesn’t dare cry. Doesn’t dare wake Severus with his guilt. With a thought he is a dog again; it helps drive away the pain. Severus isn’t blurry anymore, isn’t torn with pain and broken with suffering. No, he is Snivellus now, the one they so often teased, who always smells of potions and can often be found near the kitchens asking the houselves for a snack.

Sirius lies under the bed, shifting the dog’s thoughts to the forefront and pushing aside the messy feelings of guilt and remorse. The dog doesn’t understand such thoughts, and the human prefers to bury them. For the moment, running away is safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted 2005.  
> First edit 4/7/2006.  
> Second edit 3/29/2015.


	3. Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #03: Taste

Severus was a man of wavering loyalties; he took the path which caused him the least amount of pain. If staying true to Dumbledore meant he would live that was the path he followed; if following Voldemort’s orders meant he did not suffer he could just as easily choose that path without remorse.

Severus wasn’t strong, mentally or physically. He had suffered much, and he was tired of suffering. He no longer had the strength to stand up for his own beliefs. Worse, he had no reason to. He had no reason to fight for what he believed to be true.

Sometimes he would wish for a shelter from the world – wish for the endless pain to cease, and, if only for a few moments, feel relief. Sometimes he wished he could simply sit by the fire in the arms of another and let himself be loved.

He had dreams of that lover – dreams that were as real as visions, and just as elusive. Nothing gave away the nature, the look, the identity of his dream-lover, but he did have the essence of that person. The feel of those hands on his arms, on his shoulders; those hands were worn and hard from a difficult life, but that wasn’t uncommon anymore. War did that to good people. Even to dream-people. Severus closed his eyes for a brief moment to remember the hair that fell across his face, dark and soft. Lips that set his mouth on fire, igniting the passion Severus had once believed long dead. It was a feeling so painfully familiar, and yet so hard to identify; a wisp of smoke in his mind.

It was the taste that lingered most. That taste helped him through long hours with Voldemort and meetings filled with people he did not care for and did not wish to know. The taste of sweat and salt reminded Severus he was human. That taste reminded him he did not want to die, even without anything to fight for. The taste of skin with a slight aftertaste of wine and strawberries reminded him that he, too, had dreams. The only way he could reach that taste was if he was on the edge of sleep, but Severus didn’t mind. The taste was only a dream, and dreams hurt much less than reality.

If he could choose to live in that dream always, he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> first edit 4/7/2006.  
> second edit 4/6/2015.


	4. Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #04: Between Two Fires

Sirius yawned as he sprawled on the couch he’d transfigured on the outskirts of the bonfires. The Hogwarts staff was celebrating some forgotten holiday; it was a warm summer night made hotter by the multiple fires and few actually cared why they were celebrating. In fact, most chose not to attend at all. Sirius had taken the rare opportunity to spend time away from the home of his parents.  
   
“It seems that someone is making poor use of his time outside,” a snide voice said from behind him.  
   
Sirius looked over the back of the couch and into the face of Severus Snape, Hogwarts Potions Master. He grinned widely at his former classmate. “That would be you, right?” he said. “I can’t imagine anyone else would hate being outside!”  
   
“Must be a lack of imagination on your part. Tell me, is your time in the house of Black feeding your insanity or was it the dementors?”   
   
“I will admit spending time with those dementors sure was nasty – if it weren’t for my special talents, I may well have gone mad.”  
   
Severus allowed a sneer to show on his face. “And what talents, might I ask, would someone such as yourself possess? A lack of wisdom, perhaps, to go with your lack of imagination?”  
   
“Come here and I’ll tell you.”  
   
“I think not.”  
   
“What, you afraid of me?”  
   
Severus’ eye twitched at the taunt. “Unlike you, Black, I am not a Gryffindor.” It had hit a bit too close to home; Severus really was, at times, afraid of the other man. Afraid of what he might do. Sirius knew many secrets – if Black went running to Voldemort in an effort to save Harry, Severus would be killed. Immediately.  
   
Sirius grabbed the front of Severus’ robes and pulled the Potions Master down to his level over the back of the couch. “No,” he said, voice heavy in the night air. “You’re just a bloody coward.”  
   
Sirius pressed his lips fiercely against other man’s – for the second time in their lives – an echo of that first night together so many years ago. Sirius’ actions demanded he be acknowledged, countering the heat of the bonfires with the fire he was igniting in Severus.  
   
Sirius let go before he could get burned, making his way towards the celebrations before the kiss turned deadly. He’d been scorched too often in his youth to trust Severus’ fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> first edit 4/7/2006.  
> second edit 4/13/2015.


	5. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #05: Twilight

Sirius bared his teeth in a dog-like grin as the sun set, letting the warmth of summer caress his dark fur. Here, on this hill hidden from wizards and muggles alike, he was safe from harm. Here the one he loves was also protected from the pain of the mark on his forearm – the Dark Mark. In this place between night and day there were no masters and no duties to fulfill; there was no ministry. Here, where the sun dipped below the horizon, they had each other.

There were no expectations in this place, and therefore no disappointments.

Eventually it would end. Severus didn’t know Sirius loved him – not yet – because how could someone who had denounced his family for the light love a death eater, even one who had turned spy? How could he, Sirius, confess to the man he had teased and bullied as a teenager? 

Severus probably hated him. Sirius may have been a Gryffindor, but he was too much of a coward to find out.

There was a fine line between love and hate, but as the stars came out to brighten the sky it hardly mattered.

Severus stood and Sirius watched him curiously. Severus didn’t know he was the dog. Sometimes he seemed to know Sirius was an animagus, and sometimes he seemed not to. Sirius had neither confirmed nor denied the suspicions. One day, perhaps, he would tell his secrets. He would tell Severus in the peaceful atmosphere that settled between them and set Severus free from the pain, hate, and resentment that had grown between them.

Maybe after the war. If they could ever be in the same room together without shouting.

He would at least try, and in the end that was really the best he could do.

He got up on all fours and followed the dark-haired man back into the cottage, licking at the hand that hung at Severus’ side.

He knew Severus would wash it immediately – the Potions Master never allowed any of the dog’s saliva or fur to linger on himself or the furniture for more than a few moments – but he didn’t pull away just yet either. Sirius let show a big canine grin, his tongue rolled out in a happy pant as his tail wagged with renewed enthusiasm.

Maybe there was hope for them after all. Even with all the history – hate – in their pasts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> first edit 4/7/2006.  
> second edit 4/22/2015.


	6. Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #06: Religion

Many would argue that there was something inherently wrong about the things Sirius imagined. He had images in his head – images of himself and images of Severus – that were not commonly accepted in his family, especially for the first-born son. He had an image to uphold.

For the Black family, Dark Magic and PureBlood Supremacy was almost a religion.

Sirius knew, without a doubt, that loving another man went against every ‘religion’ he’d been taught. He was the first-born son; it was his duty to marry a PureBlood wife and continue the family line. It was his task to learn the Dark Rites and pass on their heritage and history. To a Black, blood was everything. Having the blood – and continuing it.

Sirius never cared much for the family religion. Considering his history with his family, his mother might actually be pleased with this defiance. She might even praise him for his choice of lover, if her portrait ever stopped screaming enough to figure it out. He had turned away from the family by aligning himself with James and the light; she wound probably smile to find out his line would end because his lover was male.

His brother would roll over in his grave.

Sirius had loved his brother. Not like he loved Severus, but like a brother should love his brother – like family. He had lost touch with Regulus, but after his younger brother had died Sirius wished he hadn’t. He wished he had been able to turn Regulus to a safer path, even brought his little brother with him. But Regulus had been caught up in the family beliefs.

As with Severus, Sirius had ended with pushing him towards the dark – and ultimately death.

He couldn’t let that happen to Severus – would do everything in his power to keep the dark-haired man from meeting that same, messy end. Another strike against the family religion: not in loving another man but in his absolute devotion to and worship of him.

There was something about loving Severus that was so wrong. It went against everything Sirius had been raised to believe, but loving him wasn’t about pleasing his family. Loving was a matter of the heart – a matter that went beyond religion, transcended logic, and left him at the will of a man who hated him.

Maybe the family religion was right. Loving Severus would surly leave him heartbroken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> first edit 4/7/2006.  
> second edit 4/26/2015 (major revisions).


	7. Misunderstood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #07: Language

Sirius moaned and lay as still as he could on the hospital wing bed. He opened his eyes briefly and tried to blink the walls into focus. His arm had been shattered during the attack and the nurse had yet to see him. There were other patients with injuries more serious than a mangled arm, however painful. He wished she would hurry; it really hurt. He had lost his wand when his arm was hit – the wand Dumbledore had gone through great lengths to acquire – and it was still out there on the field. Sirius panted through the pain. He wanted to find his wand but couldn’t focus enough to get out of bed.

There was a glass at his lips, liquid sloshing against his lips. Sirius drank. He couldn’t see who held the glass, but he was eager for anything to relieve the feeling of hundreds of needles pressing his skin from the inside out. Of course, the water only helped his parched throat.

“You’re lucky I’m not out to poison you,” he heard Severus say distantly. “As it is, you would be in a great deal of pain had I not been able to brew your potion quickly. Poppy will be here once she deals with the other victims. You are, surprisingly, not the worst. I picked up your wand on the field and took it to my chambers for safe keeping. Once you are well enough and I’m convinced you won’t lose it again, I will see that it is returned...”

Sirius knew Severus was still talking but he lost track of the words. Sounds were starting to jumble in his head – whatever potion Severus had given him had taken a dull edge off the pain and blurred his senses. Everything mixed together in a jumble of words and letters and phrases and Sirius just process it.

Sirius grabbed the dark-haired man’s shirt and pulled Severus as close as he could, whispering what he hoped was a solid “shut up and kiss me,” but probably sounded more like “utsh dan me ssik up.”

Severus shook his head, said something else, and left.

Sirius whimpered in protest but he was already alone. His hand fell back to the bed, empty. Severus didn’t – couldn’t – understand; what they had was animosity and hatred. Their times together rough and rushed without a single loving touch.

Sirius couldn’t hold in the whimpers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> first edit 4/9/2006.  
> second edit 5/4/2015.


	8. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #08: Exaggerate

“What are you doing in my rooms?”

“Why, Snivellus, what attitude! I might think you don’t like me.”

“I don’t. Get out.”

Sirius sighed. “I thought we might have a civil conversation for once. Guess I was wrong.”

“You’re often wrong,” Severus countered, then brought up the one event Sirius never could live down. “Tell me, did you have fun trying to get me killed? Would it make you happy to know your friend was the one to deliver the final blow? I wonder – did you have plans to hide the body so he didn’t know what he did? That seems like you. The wolf wouldn’t have been able to stand the guilt.”

“I wouldn’t – “

“Shut up. I’ve had enough of you. You always were too much trouble without your werewolf lover to rein you in. I wonder: how is it that the two of you copulate? It’s not like you can actually have sex; the – how does he term it? Oh yes, illness – that would infect you as well, and I certainly haven’t seen you howling at the moon lately. Although I guess I should be grateful you aren’t using the floor of my potions lab.”

“Seve – “

“Shut up and get out. Before I find out where Lupin spends his full moons and slip you in the room with him after forgetting his potion.”

Sirius ran.

Severus grimaced as the door shut. Why did it always seem to hurt a thousand times worse than Sirius intended? He’d be hearing that door slam for days.

Severus may have deliberately misinterpreted the relationship between Black and the werewolf. It was a reasonable conclusion from their actions, even if they had never shown interest in each other during their school days. And it was better than the alternative.

It was better than being a one-night-stand one time too many. Sirius was damaged from Azkaban, Severus told himself. Those nights didn’t mean anything.

Absolutely nothing – especially if Black _was_ with Lupin. Severus liked to think of himself as scarred from that night, so long ago, and their more recent experience. Black had ruined him.

Severus could no longer imagine himself with anyone but Black. It was maddening – it was sickening – it made him want to throw up because he didn’t necessarily _want_ that relationship and neither did Black.

He hated Black. He hated Black because he loved the man. He couldn’t stand it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> first edit 4/9/2006.  
> second edit 5/12/2015.


	9. Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #09: Heritage  
> Warning: Religious Themes and dark ruminations.

His heritage is as dark as most people believe, though he wished it weren’t. His father, his mother, his grandparents, every member of his family as far back as he could remember favored the shadier paths. The magic they used didn’t matter – in that sense, they were all wizards and witches of the light side – it was how they used it.

The muggles believe there are seven sins which cause eternal damnation. If that was true then Severus’ family had been damned since his conception. 

Gluttony was his Aunt, who had spent every sickle given to her on exquisite foods and could always be found near the finest restaurants. Her size was a testament to her sin, though her magic kept her healthy. It was amazing what magic could heal.

Pride would have marked his father, who took pride in everything he did and scorned the actions of others as inadequate. Only Severus seemed to escape that – when he was at school he was outside of his father’s reach. Close to home his father was just as abusive to him as he was to everyone else.

Greed was his mother. Much as Severus loved her, she had stayed with Tobias Snape because of her own greed. Not for wealth – she had given up on that long ago – but for love. Love she’d never gotten from her family.

Sloth mostly fit his Grandfather. His Grandmother was the one to do all the work, while his father’s father simply laid around until he died. He never had any motivation to get up after his own father had died.

And that made his Grandmother so angry it wasn’t even funny.

Envy certainly had its place with all of the Snape family line – that’s what happened when one was of poorer upbringing. The Prince line had been purebloods before his mother had married a muggle; Severus had borne the consequences.

Severus himself was lust, the last of the sins. He would not deny the bestial cravings he had buried deep inside himself; the cravings that, because he refused to indulge them, had turned him bitter.

They were cravings for a man who had spent a good deal of time in Azkaban – for a man gone half-wild, a stain on his family name in all manners but blood and wealth.

Yes, Severus’ ancestry was composed of sin. If he wanted to wax philosophical, that is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> first edit 8/22/2006.  
> second edit 5/17/2015.


	10. Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #10: Desire to Live

As much as Sirius would have loved to spend a night in the arms of Hogwarts’ very own Potions Master, he couldn't. At the moment it was an impossible dream. In order to be with Severus he would have to tell the other man he was in love, and he would have to share that fact with others. Severus wouldn't stand for being Sirius' secret lover - not when Sirius had hurt him so much in the past. Severus would want assurances that Sirius wasn't playing tricks.  
   
But announcing he was in love with Severus made Severus a target. Sirius was considered a dangerous criminal by the ministry and a known Order member by the Dark. He was wanted by both sides. Being in love gave him a weakness.  
   
And weaknesses got people killed.  
   
Sirius spent his nights alone, contenting himself with only the softest of touches when Severus had taken a sleep potion, and curling himself up at the foot of the bed when he didn’t. Sometimes, it was great to be a dog.  
   
Sometimes, it wasn’t.  
   
A hand landed between his ears and gave him an affectionate scratch. “I have no idea why the Headmaster insists you stay with me,” Severus commented as he passed, heading for his bedroom. “It’s not like you’re of any use to anyone.”  
   
Tail wagging, Sirius followed the grim man.  
   
“You are extremely well-behaved for an animal, and resemble somewhat the figure of a grim – fitting for the creepy old dungeon bat, don’t you think?”  
   
Sirius jumped up on the bed.  
   
“If you have any desire to live, you will cease such unbecoming behaviors,” Severus told the dog.  
   
Sirius sat down and watched the Potions Master stare at him.  
   
“Off the bed,” Severus said, perhaps hoping the clearer instruction would provide a more favorable result.  
   
Sirius laid down, as always happy to do the opposite of what Severus asked.  
   
“Uncivilized mutt,” Severus scolded, shaking his head and gathering his supplies for his nighttime bathroom routine. “Stay out of sight – and off the bed,” he ordered as he entered the attached bathroom. He closed the door before the large dog could nose his way inside.  
   
Sirius climbed down and laid down outside the bathroom door. He was both desperate for company and tired. He did have a desire to live, so he couldn’t be allowed weakness. It was better this way.  
   
It was so lonely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> First edit 6/7/2015.


	11. Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #11: Fairy Tale

Sirius smiled down at the book in his hands, running pale fingers over the pages. It was amazing how pale one could get after only a few days in the dungeons (and he’d been down there several weeks), but that hadn’t been what had caught his interest.  
   
It was rare to find Sirius in the library at all, since he’d been spending most of his time as a dog. The students were gone for the summer and he was essentially alone, so he’d snuck up to spend some time with one of his favorite books – a book of fairy tales.  
   
This particular collection included the tale of an early wizard who had caught an angel fallen from heaven. In order to thank the wizard, the angel had granted him a single wish. Powerful in his own right and holding tremendous magic strength, the wizard had wished for the most elusive thing in the world: love.  
   
Sirius had lots of wishes. He wished life were as simple as catching an angel fallen from heaven, or becoming real by being loved the way a stuffed rabbit would in tales. While incarcerated he had wished a handsome prince would come and rescue him from his prison and take him to where he could live in happiness.  
   
But fairy tales like that weren’t real. Even the name was a misnomer, as fairies rarely interacted with wizards and the world. Severus would never come and save him with a kiss; there would never be seven little men to hide him away from an evil stepmother, or three fairies to care for him until he was safe.  
   
There was no one to keep him and his kin safe from the evil wizard, because life wasn’t a fairy tale.  
   
But Sirius could still wish, and wish he did. He spent hours in the library reading and rereading the fairy tales, hoping for some hint to help him put his life in perspective. Wasn’t that what fairy tales were for? To help people with their lives?  
   
It didn’t have the answers he needed. Sirius set the book back on the shelf and within moments he was a dog again, making his way down to the kitchens.  
   
He could always wish for the kiss that would set him free, but until that day came he would do his best to protect his prince from the dark wizard he served.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> First edit 6/7/2015.


	12. Impossible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #12: Inconceivable

What the headmaster had implied was utterly impossible. Severus could not even begin to wrap his mind around the idea.

Albus had said to think on it; Severus, in a fit of anger, had told him to go to hell. Albus didn’t seem to mind.

The very notion was completely ridiculous. Sirius Black? Having less than hateful feelings for a deatheater? It went beyond the world of logic.

And bordered on the insane.

Severus stormed to his private rooms, not bothering to take points from the just returned first years running in the halls – they were running from him, after all, and he was certain he was, at the moment, a scary sight to behold.

Yes, it was what he wanted; yes, it was what he dreamed for – maybe, if things had gone differently, it might have even been possible.

Severus let out a slight snort. And maybe Sirius Black was actually a girl.

A dark frown made its way to his face. The thought of Sirius as a girl was actually rather disturbing.

He didn’t want to think on it – Black hated him, and that was that.

The damn dog was waiting for him when Severus returned to his quarters. “Stupid mutt,” Severus muttered. “I bet you agree with the old fool, don’t you?” He spelled the door so it was locked and closed the floo to visitors. Then he went to a hidden cabinet he only rarely opened and pulled out a bottle of scotch. He grabbed a shot glass and settled on an armchair next to the empty fireplace.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he told the dog as he poured his first shot. “You’d be the same way if some old fool presented you with an impossible notion.” He quickly downed the shot and poured another. “It may not be the proper way to drink scotch, but it is appropriate.” The dog had its head in his lap, looking up at him with concerned dark eyes.

Severus drank again. “Having such discussions with a dog seems tremendously foolish as well. Perhaps I am as bad as the old man.” He sipped the next shot, his gaze loosing focus. “I should have gotten whiskey. Or rum.”

The dog nudged Severus’ limp hand and the potions master gave him a small scratch. “It’s impossible,” he told the dog. “Inconceivable. Who would be foolish enough to love me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> First edit 6/7/2015.


	13. Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #13: Time Passes

There had been times when Sirius Black could think of nothing but what homework he had to finish and what prank he could play next.

Those days were past.

There had been days when he could party long into the night, pull Severus into a closet and kiss him until they could both no longer stand (Severus didn’t know who that masked bandit was), and walk away the next day with his pride intact. No Slytherin had caught him, though Remus had often scolded him for it and Malfoy had sometimes looked suspicious.

Those days, also, were long gone.

There had been a great deal of time – twelve years – he had spent rotting in prison. His only refuge was the body of a dog, his only happy memories were those of stealing a kiss from lips too numb to protest, and one of many regrets was not knowing if the boy with him was willing or not. The dementors had spoiled all his happy memories. The memories of a masked bandit flittered across his mind, the day Harry was born and James put the little bundle in his arms, and the day they’d won the House Cup. All those and more were marred by the pain of the dementors.

He was glad that those days, the days of Azkaban, were gone.

Now he sat alone, curled up in a chair and pretending that the back was his love’s chest, that the arms of the chair were human and wrapped around his body, and that he was, in return, protecting and holding that man.

He imagined days yet to come. Someday in the future Severus would know, and there would be no secrets between them. Severus would leave behind his bitter, regretful shell and Sirius would cast away the chains of Azkaban. It would take years to get there. Years after the death of You-Know-Who they would still be healing.

Sirius was not normally a patient man. He was impulsive to the point of being reckless. He’d spent the past few months living with – and in love with – a man who hated him, how much more daring could he get? For that imagined future, though, he was willing to wait. Like breaking out of prison, this would take timing, strategy, patience, and a great deal of courage. 

For the days yet to come he had all the patience in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> first edit 7/12/2015.


	14. Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #14: Rum (Alcohol)

Sirius knew that Severus was drunk. That was obvious in the way he lounged back on the couch – in the way he slurred his words when he told the dog animagus to come closer. 

In the way he didn’t question the fact that Sirius was in his rooms, and the large black dog that had been following him for weeks was gone.

“Come along now, Severus – let’s get you to bed,” Sirius said, taking one of the Potion Master’s thin arms and ducking under it to try and lift him out of the chair.

Severus didn’t move. “I’d dreally drather not,” Severus returned, in his strange drunken accent.

“And why would that be?” Sirius asked, heaving once more on Severus’ arm, and using the motion to get a grip around the other man’s waist.

It would be so much easier if Severus was helping.

“Drat wrould be bercause dyou – “

“Yes, Severus?” Sirius asked, guiding the man to the bedroom. “I?”

“Dyou havern’t given me da sodbering potion yet.”

“And I am grateful that you only rarely get really drunk. How much did you have?”

“….dreven?”

“Glasses?”

“Brottles.”

Severus nearly stumbled himself. It was a given fact that Severus only stored common, foul-tasting beer in his cupboards, but it was also a given fact that those common beers were STRONG. Severus mixed them in his own secret way, which he had modified while he was in school, to have the maximum effect and still taste like potion sludge. No one was tempted to steal Severus’ beer and even he was reluctant to drink it.

Sirius sat the other man down on the bed and prayed that Severus didn’t throw up before he got a potion to settle Severus’ stomach.

He prayed that Severus wouldn’t question why the DOG was bringing it to him. The potions’ master had accepted “Snuffles” as a somewhat strange addition to his rooms but bringing potions might cross the line. 

Sirius finally got Severus to lay down, but suddenly strong arms were around his waist and Severus wasn’t letting him leave. “Dare dyou a dream?” he mumbled drunkenly, his nose in Sirius’ side. “Don’t – hic! – leave.”

“Just don’t throw up on my fur,” Sirius said fondly. He held Severus until the other man fell asleep. Then he lightly kissed Severus on the temple before transforming back into a dog.

Severus’ arms stayed locked around him until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> first edit 7/12/2015.


	15. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #15: Childhood Scars

Some things you just do not talk about to anyone, not even the people you trust with your life. There are some things - like the way you tortured fireflies as a child, or the way you tried to drown your next door neighbor's pet cat because your cousin said it would make you a man – that are just too personal.

Like the way you tried to cut yourself with the butter knife because your father wouldn’t speak to you.

There are things that happen to you as a child that leave scars. Some scars are visible as marks on the flesh, manifestations of childhood events. Severus had marks like that. There were marks from glass cuts, where his shoulder had been rammed into a beaker when he was ten; there were burns where he’d been six years old and snuck into the kitchens to make his own cookies (though those had mostly been healed); there was the hook in his nose from where he’d fallen off a training broom when he was five.

But he had other scars, too. Scars which could not be seen, and that he wouldn’t talk about. Not even Lily – dear, precious Lily – had seen those. These were scars which ran deeper than the flesh. Even though the initial pain had long since passed, these scars still hurt as if they were fresh.

His father had constantly called him inadequate, and Severus had hidden them inside with his constant fear of not being good enough.

Sirius had taken his first experience and left him wondering if he was only lovable when convenient.

The werewolf – Remus – hadn’t intended to scar him, but one doesn’t get nearly attacked by a werewolf and not have nightmares for months, years, even decades into the future.

Lucius had introduced him to the Dark Lord, an act which marked him physically with the Dark Mark and other tortures, and mentally with guilt and fear. He still sent a prayer each night to Lily asking her to forgive him for that connection, which scarred his soul more than any other hurt.

Everyone had scars from childhood. Some were innocent marks from learning to ride a broom or tackling the school bully to impress a pretty. But the ones that hurt the most ran deeper than many cared to admit. Severus’ hands shook and his body trembled from nightmares that never touched his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> second edit 11/4/2015.


	16. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #16: Investigate

Sirius’ ears perked up at a small sound coming from the bedroom. It could simply be Severus rolling over in his sleep, though the potions’ master was generally not a restless sleeper. It had been a soft sound, barely heard.

Sirius hadn’t meant to be in Severus’ rooms at all, but when the other man had seen him roaming the grounds in dog form Sirius hadn’t been able to stop himself from begging for a good scratch. Then following at Severus’ heels for dinner was only natural, and after –

There it was again, a sound which was clearly harsh breathing. Someone had gone into Severus’ rooms, and had done so without Sirius noticing the intrusion. He could smell the sweat in the air, his canine sense sorting out the salt, sweat, and grime smells into something vaguely human. Sirius was on his feet and on his way to the bedroom door, moving as quietly as his paws could across stone.

Severus smelled of potions and dungeons, but this person must be an intruder. The newcomer smelled of rain and water with a light touch of dirt. Severus smelled of long hours underground and this person smelled of sweat and activity.

Sirius crouched down by the bedroom door, ready to spring at the attacker should if he needed to, and used a paw to push open the door just a crack.

There was a moan, and with a growl Sirius was in the room with his teeth bared.

Severus moaned again. It took several moments for Sirius to realize they were alone in the room.

Sniffing, Sirius made his way over to the bed and realized the smell of rain and water was because Severus had taken a bath. Severus’ normally greasy hair was even still wet. The sweat and salt smell was because Severus actually was sweating. He was having a nightmare.

Sirius pushed his head under one limp hand and whined. He licked the wrist carefully, avoiding the dark ink that marred the flesh, and wiped away the salty sweat in a doggy kiss.

The hand fisted in his fur, too tight, and Sirius whimpered.

Then all the tension in the other man’s body was gone, the hand released his fur, and the smell of something else filled the air.

Sirius was glad that Severus wouldn’t see his blush. That hadn’t been a nightmare. Not by a long shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> first edit 11/5/2015.


	17. Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #17: Therapy

Muggles had a funny term for mind healers. They called them ‘therapists,’ and there was no exact equivalent in the magical world. Mind healers worked with spell damage and with quantifiable anomalies – imbalances, damages, and the like. Therapists dealt with emotional damage.

Sirius guessed he could be considered emotionally damaged. Maybe that was why he had to stay hidden away. He couldn’t be trusted out in the world alone. There were times when he was mad at the world and everyone in it. He had good reasons, too. Dumbledore could have protected Lily and James better. The ministry was full of incompetent fools who couldn’t be bothered to give anyone a competent trial; they couldn’t even use the magical resources they had to validate testimonies.

Sirius was mad at Severus for not realizing how Sirius felt. He was mostly mad at himself for not being able to protect the ones he loved – and so much more.

When he was angry, or scared, or frustrated there was no one he could talk to about his problem – no one any of them could talk to. Their work was too secret, and too dangerous. They had to deal with it in their own ways. Some ways worked better than others.

Sirius had seen Severus run from his problems. The potions master knew the dangers of addictive substances yet he still ran to beer and dreamless sleep potions when he couldn’t face the world. Dumbledore muddled up morals, making immoral acts seem as the only viable response, the best action for “the greater good.” He never admitted to doing wrong, and many times manipulated others into doing the dirty work for him. Or maybe that was just Sirius being resentful. 

Remus took it out on helpless furniture during the full moon, letting the wolf eat his rage and despair.

Sirius couldn’t do that. Couldn’t bury it, push it on others, or use it to destroy.

Instead Sirius let the anger stew inside him, twisting the curves of reason until he worked through just what had gone wrong. Why he was so mad.

Then he pushed it away. Like ashes on the wind, he let the memories drift away. It was much gentler than the dementors, ripping the reason from his mind.

These were his ashes, scattered about in the forests of his mind, and they were his therapy, because he could do nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> First edit 11/12/2015.


	18. Commute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #18: Backseat

Of all the muggle inventions out there – phones, televisions, even computers – Severus believed he hated cars the most. He had no idea who had even had the idea that moving a large hunk of metal based on controlled internal explosions was a good idea, but he hoped they were having panic attacks over all the things which could potentially _go wrong_.

 

Potions were simpler. Easier to control. Certain ingredients combined in specific ways produced predictable results. There was room for experimentation and growth, but he still knew adding porcupine quills to a potion with red lily petals over high heat would cause an explosion. He didn’t need anyone else to tell him that.

 

He did need someone else to drive him, however. It was inefficient, bothersome, and took control of the situation away from him. Even the floo system was better than taking a car.

 

Yet he was sitting in the backseat of a muggle car while Arthur Weasley drove him to retrieve Harry Potter from his relatives. Oh, he could have ridden in the front of the car and allowed Molly Weasley, Arthur’s wife, to ride in the back, but then he would have had to partake in _conversation_ with Arthur. As much as helped the Order, he wasn’t _friends_ with any of them.

 

Except Lily. He had once been friends with Lily.

 

He had a rudimentary understanding now of the muggle phrase “taking a backseat”. Since he was in the back of the car he could pretend not to hear the conversation in the front, pretend not to hear their concerns over _the boy who lived_ , and they could mostly pretend he wasn’t there though politeness caused them to occasionally try to include him in the conversation.

 

His need to be polite took a backseat to his need to show displeasure over his assigned task.

 

There were some things Severus knew he ignored, mentally putting in a “backseat”, which others would never consider. Often he ignored pain – particularly the pain the Dark Lord inflicted – in order to get desired results. This was necessary to be a spy both for and against the Dark Lord. If there was work to be done, he sometimes ignored hunger to complete his tasks. Apparently with Sirius his lust had overruled his rationality. That was long ago, however, and even though the man had resurfaced Severus wasn’t about to let it happen again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> first edit 1/16/2016.


	19. Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #19: Stay With Me

Severus knew he shouldn’t do it – knew it would throw many other plans into chaos. He knew that, come this time tomorrow, he would regret his choice and wish he were dead instead.

 

He knew in a few hours he would be marked for death for what he was about to do and that scared him.

 

At the moment it didn’t seem to matter. At the moment all that mattered was the intense sorrow that came over Sirius’ face when the mark began to burn, and Severus could see the silent plea: **_stay_**. If Sirius hadn’t been there –

 

Severus had never expected to have an enjoyable moment with Sirius again, much less an entire evening. He’d resigned himself to hating the man for the rest of his life, despite what his traitorous body thought.

 

**_Stay with me_ ** _._

 

But Sirius was there, and Severus was so tired of spying. He was tired of risking his life for people who hated him for the very work he did. He was tired of the mistrust, tired of the dark looks, tired of being cursed over and over just to bring back a small bit of information and have that information questioned and analyzed and doubted without even a “thank you” for his efforts. He avoided their help, even the mediwitch’s help, because he could tell that they didn’t really want to help _him_. They just did so because they had to. Because it was in their nature to.

 

But he was tired of helping _them_.

 

**_Don’t go. Please._ **

 

So instead of going out to serve a dark master, instead of spying for a man who wanted to use him, he clutched at the arm of a man who had spent twelve years in a wizard prison, gathered up what little courage he had, and prayed that a few reckless nights of mad release had meant as much to the former prisoner as they had meant to him. For a moment fear clutched at him, gripped his heart and told him Sirius felt nothing for him and never had.

 

His Mark burned and he had to make a decision. He had to leave quickly if his courage failed him, but logically he knew it was already too late. He took a breath and defied Voldemort for a few minutes longer, speaking the three words that would seal his fate:

 

“Let me stay.”

 

Sirius did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> first edit 1/16/2016.


	20. Defiance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #20: Bring Me Down

Sirius could feel the tears streaming down his cheeks, and he didn’t know that he could explain why he was crying to the others. He knew they didn’t understand; Sirius and Severus were far from friends, and constant sniping at each other did not lead to holding hands and sharing pain.

 

Severus was in a lot of pain. Sirius was pants at legilimency, but he had learned from a young age to occlude. And when his brother had been born Sirius had learned to shield him from their father too. Now he used those skills to shield Severus’ mind while the Dark Lord attacked.

 

It may not be a mercy, Sirius thought. If he had let Severus be, the man would be mad by now. As it was, with Sirius shielding his mind, the pain continued to eat at him.

 

No one really knew why Severus had suddenly decided to defy Voldemort. All they knew was that he had, and now he was laying on a bed soaked in sweat and clutching the hand of schoolyard enemy with a throat raw from screaming.

 

Sirius wished he could lessen the pain. Perhaps, if he had taken the mark too – but that was the past. It hadn’t happened and he couldn’t change it. All he could do now was try to help the man on the bed keep his sanity through the pain.

 

But Sirius couldn’t last much longer. He could already feel his shields weakening. He hoped that soon the Dark Lord would grow bored, but then Severus would forever be living in the shadow of that madman, wondering when he would be struck down with pain.

 

Severus was defying two wizards – one dark, one light – by failing to act, but all Sirius wanted to do was bring back the defiant little snot who had tumbled with him on the dungeon floor.

 

A hand on his shoulder told him his godson had entered, and though Harry didn’t understand everything he still took Severus’ arm and spoke to the mark. Spoke to the snake in its own language.

 

As he spoke the attacks faded. The curtains stirred with the magic, whispering in an answering hiss, and eventually the attacks were no more.

 

Sirius looked at Harry and the boy gave him a small, crooked smile. Sirius let his happiness show as he settled beside Severus, let his shields fall, and passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> first edit 1/19/2016.


	21. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme/Challenge #21: Health

Severus was, for the most part, free from pain. While he was still recovering from the Dark Lord’s attack, no new attempts had been made and he had not yet needed to resort to cutting off his arm. _That_ argument had woken the portrait of Sirius’ mother, drawn scolding from Mrs. Weasley, and brought a disappointed look from the Headmaster. Most others had ignored the argument, except for a mangy black dog which had somehow found its way inside the house and shoved its head under Severus’ limp hand.

 

Severus was not fool enough to think the animal had managed to sneak in on its own, and gave the Headmaster foul looks for days after.

 

The Mark remained silent during all this, and the longer it remained so the weaker Severus’ protests became. He could live with the tattoo of an empty skull on his arm.

 

Except the skull wasn’t always empty.

 

Every once in a while the beast would slither out of its home and wander around Severus’ body until it could converse with Potter. It never brought Severus any more pain, for which he was grateful, but he was sometimes unnerved when it would slither across his skin in agitation. No one understood it – except perhaps for Harry.

 

Sirius didn’t care, but he _had_ fallen back on bad habits. Severus and Sirius were still snarling at each other at every turn as if they were still in Hogwarts themselves. Neither mentioned how Sirius had shielded Severus; neither mentioned why Severus had stayed.

 

As a dog, Sirius let himself express his concern. He licked the skin where the snake had once been inked, a dog version of a kiss. He licked the palm, so often sweaty and shaking from the after-effects of too much pain, and let the fingers scratch his chin and ears.

 

He laid his head on Severus’ bare shoulder, marred by the thin pink stripes of a wound healed far too late to escape scars.

 

Sirius often tried to lick – kiss – Severus’ face, but Severus pushed him away from that. Sirius – as a dog – didn’t mind, too grateful that Severus was even alive. That his Godson had the ability to forgive this man and save him.

 

Severus wasn’t exactly healthy yet, but he was free from pain, and he was healing. In more ways than one.

 

That was better than anything Sirius had ever hoped for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted 2005.  
> first edit 1/25/2016.


End file.
